


Business

by belovedbey



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Cinnamon Roll Newt Scamander, Fluff, Food Kink, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Smitten Original Percival Graves, The food kink is only mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 15:48:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17428865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belovedbey/pseuds/belovedbey
Summary: Percival likes Newt's freckles... a lot.





	Business

The ball-point pen remained still, tip touched to the paper but completely unmoving as its user was occupied, staring at the angelic specimen on the couch not far from his desk. Newt faced the same direction he sat, leaving him able to admire his delicate profile and the way he was fully absorbed in sketching in the leather journal on his lap. His concentration was evident in the way his eyebrows were drawn together, and Percival desperately wished he was the one biting at the lip that was being chewed on by the man. He’d been attempting to delve into his abundant paperwork, but he noticed the way the sliver of light from the window behind him fell onto Newt fifteen minutes earlier and his eyes had been stuck on him ever since. How could he possibly focus if this stunning sight displayed itself before him?

Fidgeting, Newt tried to concentrate on his new illustration of a Billywig mid-flight, but he kept having to redraw the wings as Percival’s staring rendered him a bit nervous, the nape of his neck seeming to burn under the gaze. He didn’t know why the Director was staring at him; perhaps he’d gotten a smidge of chocolate on his face from his breakfast and failed in wiping it off? Testing the theory, he lifted the back of his hand to his cheek and rubbed, only to bring it back clean. Unable to take it any longer, Newt met Percival’s eyes, skin turning pink at the odd expression in them. “I-Is there something wrong, Director?” The man, who had stuck the end of the pen in his mouth for he knew nothing was going to come out of his failed concentration, grunted and shook his head.

“Mmm, no. Forgive me, Newt. You’re just rather distracting. Also, I’ve told you to call me Percival at least nine times. ” Newt, drawing his eyes away, immediately felt bad at this, but he didn’t know why he’d be distracting; he was only sitting there, and he made sure the scratching sounds of his pencil weren’t too loud. Maybe he’d been tapping his foot on the floor and he didn’t notice--he actually tended to do that often, and it was a habit his brother despised.

“Sorry. I-I could leave if you want,” he proposed, already fastening his journal shut and tucking the pencil inside one of his pockets. 

“I don’t want.” Now confused at the man’s contradicting actions, Newt stood and faced him with befuddlement written on his face.

“But…”

“You’re a lovely distraction, Mr. Scamander. I really don’t mind your presence.” Turning red at these words, Newt found the floor with his eyes and shifted his weight, still not totally understanding.

“I… I don’t--”

“Come here.” His I’m-The-Director-Of-The-Department-Of-Magical-Law-Enforcement voice was in full use and Newt, now rather anxious at not knowing what was going to happen, tentatively walked so that he stood on the other side of the desk, not lifting his whatsoever; instead noticing the way that one side of the bow tied in the lace of his right boot was slightly uneven. He thought Percival’s directions were clear enough to understand, but it seemed he hadn’t followed them to his standard. “Come next to me.” Sighing, Newt complied, moving around the mahogany desk that was so polished he could see his worried expression reflected in it and making sure to avoid the corners with his hip, because he really didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of the man. 

Percival watched Newt where he now stood beside him, fringe covering the eyes he knew were two sapphires and hands tightly clasped around each other. Mouth cocking mischievously, he abruptly shot his two arms around Newt’s middle and tugged, bringing the taller man crashing into his lap with a loud squeak. Beginning to squirm, Percival tightened his grip and forced him to stay still. “I wouldn’t do that.” He ceased his moving, and Newt, shocked at his current position, looked at him again. 

“Why… what are you--”

“Shh,” Percival whispered endearingly, trailing one of his hands up the length of Newt’s back and tangling his fingers in the red locks he’d always wanted to feel. They were as soft as he expected, and as he lightly tugged at them to lean Newt’s head back, the man in his lap groaned in a way that nearly made Percival devour him on the spot. Zeroing in on the man’s neck, he hungrily admired the never-ending freckles and he wondered if they covered his entire body; he wanted to ask, but he decided he’d rather discover that himself and instead tasted the milky skin, letting his tongue make a path up to his jaw, stopping to nibble along the way.

“Dir--” A harsher bite to his neck made him jump, but he closed his eyes in pleasure at the same time. “Percival, what…” Growling predatorily, Percival brought Newt’s head back down and ruthlessly invaded his mouth, Newt’s surprised moan egging him on. 

Bringing his own hands up to the back of Percival’s head, Newt didn’t know fully what was going on, but he definitely wasn’t complaining about the situation. If he were to complain about one thing, it’d be the strong taste of coffee on the older man, but he supposed he could learn to enjoy the taste off of him. Percival’s hand, which had a mind of its own, slipped under Newt’s shirt and caressed his waist, making the magizoologist jump at his cold palm.

Percival nearly succeeded in reaching to tweak at one of his nipples, but a knock on the door drew Newt away, Percival greatly unpleased at the disruption. “What?!” He barked, and the man on his lap moved to rise off him, but he refused to let that happen and brought him back down. “No you don’t. You’re staying here for rest the day.” Newt’s face flamed, and the only thing he could do when the person entered the office was bury his face in the crook of the older man’s neck.

“Director, I brought you--” _Great,_ Newt thought to himself, _just what Tina needs to see; me, in a rather intimate position with her boss._ “Uh…”

“Get on with it, Tina,” He ordered, acting as if her friend being seated in his lap was an everyday thing (it wasn’t, but he planned on make it one).

“Oh… uh, here,” She replied, not even bothering to explain as she came to his desk and slipped the manila folder on top of it. “It’s about the trafficking case from last week.”

“Ah… thank you, Auror Goldstein,” he responded, reaching around Newt to lift the folder and sift through it. “You can leave now.” She stayed for a moment, eyes still transfixed on the man on his lap until Percival rose her eyebrows at her.

“Oh… right.” Spinning on her heels, she hurried out of the door and closed it a little too hard behind her.

“Did you know I like you?” A quiet voice asked from his neck, and Percival looked down at Newt and his more-than-flustered appearance, surprised at the question.

“No. I was just planning on having you either way,” he answered, smiling as Newt met his eyes. Whenever they made eye contact, something within him stirred because he knew the action didn’t come easy to him; whenever Newt tried to look at anyone else for too long, he grew awkward and nervous, but he remained calm--just a bit mystified--in this situation, and Percival’s stomach felt funny as Newt smiled in return, nuzzling his nose against his neck and closing his eyes.

“Well, since I have to stay here, I might as well take a nap.”

“It’d be my pleasure,” Percival responded, and then, with an asleep Newt cuddled into him, he was finally able to get through most of the work needed to be done. 

After that day, if Newt found himself anywhere near the Director and wanted to sit down, Percival would latch his hands onto the man’s torso and bring him down onto him no matter where they were, whether it be an important meeting (Seraphina would just shake her head at her Director’s antics and suppress an amused smile) or inside Jacob’s bakery. Oftentimes, Jacob would slyly smile at his friend from behind the counter and Newt would just blush in return, trying to fend off Percival’s hand that was trying to feed him one of his pastries. 

One day, when Queenie joined her boyfriend to aid in baking on a particularly busy day, she couldn’t help but become a little flustered for Newt at the… _unchaste_ imagination of his significant other, who had just wiped a bit of chocolate off Newt’s lip with the pad of his thumb and brought it into his own mouth rather sensually. Let’s just say, she couldn’t eat anything chocolate for a week afterward, but she was sure Director Graves indulged in plenty of the sweet substance after that. Later on, she really tried not to find out what occurred the next time she was in the presence of Director Graves, but she couldn’t restrain herself. 

It turned out, Newt’s entire body _was_ covered in freckles, and his boyfriend enjoyed running his tongue over all of them, not minding when the taste of chocolate accompanied the activity. She decided not to tell Jacob why the pair bought so many chocolate goods, for she knew people should just keep some things to themselves. Instead, like the innocent woman she was, she just continued wiping off the top of the display case and replied, “Maybe they just really like chocolate, honey.” The wink she served Newt and his vibrant blush both went unnoticed by Jacob, who just shrugged to himself while counting the money in the register.

“Hey, it’s business anyway.”


End file.
